Baby Genius
by Praetorian Guard
Summary: Pre-NT. One-shot sequel to 'Origins.' How Ben, Riley, Ian and gang found the Charlotte.


**Disclaimer:** None of the characters from National Treasure belong to me. I'm just temporarily borrowing them and (unfortunately) I'm not getting paid for it. Please don't post or publish this story anywhere else without my permission.

**Author's Note:** Baby Genius takes place immediately after my other National Treasure story, Origins, but is still pre-NT. Someone told me they liked the 'Ian is still a good guy' stories. I do too, so I decided to write another one. Of course, you don't _have_ to read Origins before reading this story, but I won't discourage it :-) and some of the components of this story may make a little more sense if you have. Anyway, I'd love to know what you think, so when you're finished please write me a review. I thrive on criticism, good or bad, so if you liked it, great! If you hated it, let me know what you think I should do to make it better…and as always, thanks for reading!

**Baby Genius **

Riley looked up at the apartment building in front of him and took a deep breath. This was the place. It was hard to believe it had only been twenty-four hours since he had met the legendary Ben Gates, face to face. It was even harder to believe that Ben had allowed Riley to join him in the search for the treasure of the Knights Templar. It had been Riley's dream, ever since he learned of the treasure, to be part of the expedition that would find it.

Riley tried to calm the flutter in his stomach as he walked toward the door with the brass number five on it. _"Your only chance to turn and run is right now,"_ said a little voice in the back of his head. He closed his eyes in order to shut out the voice before forcing himself to raise his slightly shaking fist to the door to knock on it. A moment later he heard the click of the lock unlatching. The red door swung open and Ben stood before him

"Right on time," Ben said, smiling warmly. "Come on in."

"Thanks," Riley said as he adjusted the shoulder strap of the laptop case he carried with him.

"You look a little nervous," Ben observed as Riley followed him down the hall, "Got a few butterflies in your stomach?"

"Butterflies?" Riley gave a small, tense laugh. "More like pterodactyls," he admitted.

"Don't worry," Ben said, laughing, "You'll be fine."

Ben's apartment wasn't huge, but it was homely and Riley felt a little more at ease as Ben led him toward the living room. Upon their entrance his unease returned as the sound of voices stopped and five pairs of eyes shifted toward him.

"Guys, this is Riley Poole," Ben said to the men who were scattered about his living room. "Riley, you already know Ian," Ben said, pointing off to the left where Ian sat at a desk along the wall. Ian gave Riley a small smile. To Ian's right sat a well-built man, looking at the computer monitor in front of him. Even though the man was sitting down, Riley could tell that he had probably once been a boxer. He had dark hair and a kind of square shaped face. "That's Oleg Shippen at the computer," Ben said motioning to the man next to Ian. Riley hadn't held Shippen's attention for long and at the mention of his name he gave a small wave of his hand in Riley and Ben's direction, never removing his gaze from the computer screen. Ben then pointed to the two men sitting across the room at a round table covered in papers and open books. The man on the left had a rugged face surrounded by a mop of dark, graying hair, about the length of Ian's. Beside him sat a younger man with a shaved head and piercing blue eyes. "Over here we have Stewart Powell and the lovely David Shaw."

"You don't think I'm as pretty as Shaw, Ben?" the older man said sadly, pretending to look hurt.

"No, Powell, I don't," Ben said trying to hide his smile. Shaw said nothing as he gave Riley a once-over, sizing him up. His eyes locked with Riley's for a moment before giving Riley a curt nod of recognition. "And last but not least we have Phil Pope," Ben said motioning to the only other man in the room. He rose from his place on the couch and set his laptop down, extending a hand to Riley.

"Phil," he repeated. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Likewise," Riley said, accepting the outstretched hand. Phil was obviously the youngest of the group, but he was still at least five or six years older than Riley.

"Well, before we put you to work on anything, you have a little bit of catching up to do," Ben said to Riley as he pulled out two more chairs at the table with Powell and Shaw. He and Riley sat down. "You proved to us yesterday that you already have extensive knowledge of Knights Templar, but there's a little more history that you should know."

"Okay," Riley said, looking at Ben with eager eyes.

"Well, it all started on a rainy night in 1832. Charles Carroll was last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence …"

Powell suddenly jumped up from his chair. "Ha! Pay up!" he shouted happily, getting everyone's attention. Shaw rolled his eyes and took out his wallet. He removed several bills and handed them to Powell.

"Umm, excuse me," Ben said waiving his hands at Powell and Shaw. "What's going on?"

"They were betting on how you would tell the story," Shippen said in his thick Russian accent, his eyes still glued to the computer screen.

"What?"

Shaw sighed. "You tell the story the same way every time, Ben, and I was stupid enough to bet Powell that you would tell it differently this time."

"I do not!" Ben exclaimed.

"Ben, in the eighteen months that I've known you I must have heard you tell that story at least ten times," Ian said. "And you _always_ start it by saying 'It all started on a rainy night in 1832 and Charles Carroll was last surviving signer of the Declaration of Independence.' I can recite it word for word the way you tell it."

"Me too," Shippen piped in.

"Well…I'm just telling it the way it was told to me," Ben defended himself, feeling a little dejected.

"That's okay," Ian said, as if he were consoling a child, "Just know that any one of us could tell the exact same story you do."

Riley cleared his throat. "Is _someone_ going to tell me the story?"

"Yes," Ben said, glaring at Powell and Shaw before starting the story over. "One night in 1832, the last living signer of the Declaration of Independence…" Over the next fifteen minutes Ben told Riley more about the treasure and how his family had become the owners of the last clue found disclosing the treasure's location.

"And that was the secret that Charles Carroll told to my grandfather's great-grandfather," Ian, Shaw, Shippen, Powell and Phil said in unison with Ben as he finished the story. They all burst into cheers and applause and Ben's face turned red.

"So, the secret lies with Charlotte, huh?" Riley asked. "Who's Charlotte?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Ben said ruefully.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but hearing that story always makes me hungry," Powell said. "Who votes for a lunch break?" Hands went up all over the room.

"Fine," Ben agreed reluctantly as he looked at his watch. It _had_ been a while since breakfast. "Somebody order a pizza."

"Here you go, new guy," Shaw said, grabbing the cordless phone from the cradle on the wall and tossing it to Riley. "Let's see if you're good for anything." Riley fumbled the phone for a minute but managed not to drop it. He looked hesitant, but dialed the number to the pizzeria and ordered.

Twenty minutes later a young man showed up on Ben's front step, carrying three large Supreme pizzas.

"Isn't someone going to pay the man?" Ben asked as he relieved the teenager of the pizza boxes. Several pairs of eyes darted around the room, waiting for someone to take responsibility.

"I gave all my money to Powell," Shaw said.

"And I paid last time," Phil insisted.

"No, I paid last time," Shippen argued.

"No you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"No you didn't," the pizza boy piped in. "He did," he said pointing to Phil.

"Umm…I'll get it," Riley volunteered. Powell and Shaw had been eyeing him skeptically since his arrival and Riley was eager to be accepted.

"Well, what do you know?" Shaw said. "You may be good for something after all." Ian and Shippen chuckled, but Powell only glared at Riley and snorted.

Riley paid the pizza boy as Ben took the pizza boxes back into the kitchen. Powell stood up and ducked into the kitchen behind Ben.

"Ben, I don't like this," he said as Ben started to get plates out.

"Then you should have told Riley you didn't want Supreme before he ordered," Ben said, pretending he didn't know what Powell was talking about.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Powell said.

"Look, I know Riley's not what any of us expected, but give him a chance," Ben whispered, trying to keep his voice down.

"Ben, he's a baby!" Powell exclaimed, a little louder than he'd meant to. Out in the living room Riley's face flushed and he stared at the floor. He could feel the eyes of the others drilling into him.

"Just give him a chance," Ben said as he exited the kitchen with the plates on top of the pizza boxes, ending the conversation with Powell.

As they reentered the living room, Ben gave Riley a reassuring glance. No one commented on the conversation they had all overheard as they ate, and soon the pizzas were gone.

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

"I give up," Riley said as he removed his reading glasses and tossed them onto the table next to his laptop. Bright sunlight shone through the window into Ben's living room, but the mood inside was tense. "We've researched every woman named Charlotte who lived during the seventeen hundreds and none of them had any connection to the Free Masons." There were silent nods of agreement all around the room.

"We can't stop looking," Ben said simply, refusing to accept defeat.

"Ben, you have to admit, this has been frustrating for everyone. Maybe its time to take a break for a while" Ian said, rubbing his temples.

"What do you mean 'take a break for a while'?" Ben asked.

"I just mean that everyone's discouraged. Let's give it some time…maybe take a few weeks off," Ian suggested.

"That sounds good to me," Phil said.

"Guys, come one. Don't give up on me here. Please," Ben begged. "I can't do this by myself."

"We're not giving up, Ben," Ian tried to assure him. "We all believe the treasure is out there, we just need some time to think."

"What is there to think about?" Ben asked. "I mean, we have the clue. It says that the secret lies with Charlotte. We just have to figure out who that is!" Soon the room was filled with the drone of agitated voices all arguing a different point that no one else would hear. After a while, a lull descended and everyone sat stewing in his own agitation, not bothering to notice that everyone else was doing the same thing.

"Why are we even looking for a person?" Riley finally asked, exasperated. "For all we know, Charlotte could have been someone's pet bird or…or their buggy or something. I mean, people name their cars all the time, so maybe Charlotte was somebody's wagon…" Riley's voice trailed off as he realized how intently everyone was staring at him. "What?"

"Riley, you're a genius," Ben said as ran over to the table and sat down next to him. Ian, Shippen, Phil, Powell and Shaw crowded around the table behind them.

"What did I say?" Riley asked, not really sure what the excitement was about.

"Do a Google search for _The_ Charlotte and see what that turns up," Ben suggested. Riley's eyes lit up as he put all the pieces together. He quickly put his glasses back on and followed Ben's instructions.

"There are more than twenty million results," Riley told them.

"Okay, narrow the search," Ben said. "Try The Charlotte and Free Masons."

"Hey, only fifty-seven thousand results this time," Riley said sarcastically.

"Try adding a time period. Add 1700 to that and see what happens," Ben said, not paying attention to Riley's mock enthusiasm. Over the past months everyone had come to expect such behavior from Riley.

"Four hundred twenty-five results," Riley said. "Most of them look like articles about Free Masons from a newspaper called The Charlotte…and there are several sites about Free Masons who came from Charlotte, North Carolina…" Riley continued to click through the pages of results until Ben stopped him on the sixth page.

"Wait…look at that," Ben said, pointing to the screen. The link read _"'American Ships Lost at Sea' Exhibition to Come to Smithsonian in November 2003._" Under the link a small caption gave more detailed information. _"Smithsonian National Museum of American History exhibit to feature extensive research on the disappearance of several ships of the early 1700s and the legends that surround them, including Belle, Charlotte."_

"Click on that one," Ben instructed Riley. The link took them to a dead page.

"_We're sorry, but the page you are looking for could not be found. To return to the previously viewed page click the 'back' button."_

Ben hit the table with the palm of his hand in frustration. This was what they were looking for. He could _feel_ it.

"Wait a minute," Riley said, typing a new website into the address bar. "I remember when that exhibit was at the Smithsonian. It came through the Early American History department right after I started working there. I bet you anything it's still catalogued in the database!" No one made a sound as Riley attempted to access the Smithsonian's electronic database.

"_Access Denied," _the page read.

"I don't believe it! They must have changed the password to the database after I quit! Those little…"

"Can you get past it?" Ian interrupted.

Riley hesitated. "Isn't that kind of…illegal?"

"The first day we met, when Ben and I came to see you at the museum, didn't you tell us that you created the museum's database?" Ian asked.

"Yeah, but…I mean, I created it _for_ the museum." Riley said. "If I bypass the security encryption…wouldn't that be hacking?"

"I don't think it's considered hacking when it's a program you _created_," Ian said. There were statements of agreement from Shaw, Phil, Shippen and Powell.

Riley looked at Ben. "What do you think?" he asked. Ben seemed torn between his conscious and his desire to find the treasure.

"Did you ever sign any kind of contract with the Museum giving them the rights to the database software?" he asked.

"No, but I didn't ever patent or copyright the program either," Riley said.

"Well, legally it doesn't belong to them, but the decision is completely up to you, Riley," Ben said. There was a long, silent pause. "Just remember that we won't be doing anything illegal with the information that we find. We want it purely for its historical significance."

"Give me a minute," Riley said, his brow furrowing in concentration. As the seconds dragged by, the only sound that could be heard was the furious click of the keys on Riley's laptop.

"Ha! Ha ha!" Riley shouted, causing everyone to jump. "I did it! Take that, you stuck up little…" Riley paused and looked at the faces of everyone around him. "Sorry." He cleared his throat and composed himself. "So, uh, according to this," Riley continued, attempting to sound casual, "the Charlotte was mainly a cargo ship." He was silent for a moment as he scanned the database for relevant information. "Hmm…this is interesting," Riley said. "In August of 1773, the Charlotte was commissioned to sail from a small port in Virginia around South America and up the western coast of North America."

"They sent a cargo ship on a voyage like that?" Ian asked.

"It gets stranger," Riley said as he continued to read from the museum's database, "The only message received from the Charlotte came a year after they left Virginia and said they were presently located at sixty-five degrees north by one hundred sixty-nine degrees west in..."

"The Bering Strait," Ben said, nodding as he thought out loud. Riley gave Ben an incredulous look. "The Russian explorer Vitus Bering discovered and charted the strait in 1728," Ben continued, as if what he was saying should be common knowledge. "He was the first person to discover that North America and Asia were two different continents."

"Do you know _everything_?" Riley asked Ben, derisively.

"Yes he does," Ian said, trying to preempt a tangent from Riley. "Keep reading."

Riley shook his head at Ben, but continued reading from the database. "Their message said they were in the Bering Strait but had sustained heavy damage from a rogue wave and…"

"A what?" Shaw interrupted.

"A rogue wave," Riley repeated. "Ben, would you like to explain what a rogue wave is?" he asked.

"Rogue waves are very rare, large and spontaneous waves that are potentially powerful enough to sink ocean liners," Ben said, once again ignoring the fact that Riley's comment had been sarcastic.

"Okay, so they got hit by a rogue wave," Ian said, trying to prompt Riley to continue. "Then what happened?"

"They were never heard from again," Riley said. "The Charlotte was officially declared lost at sea five years later when she still hadn't returned to Virginia. And according to this, no wreckage was ever found, even though the Bering Strait was searched many times."

"I doubt she's there anymore," Ben muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Where else would she be?" Shaw asked. "Sunken ships don't just sail away."

"Sometimes they do," Ben said mysteriously.

"Come again?" Shaw said, looking at Ben as if he were crazy.

"Due to the currents in that region she's probably moved," Ben explained. Shaw looked at Ben skeptically, but Ian recognized the twinkle Ben suddenly had in his eye. It meant he was formulating some sort of plan.

"I wouldn't argue with him," Ian advised, waiting to hear Ben's idea.

"Riley," Ben said, turning to the younger man next to him. "If we calculated the rate at which the currents moved and factored in the hydrothermal properties in that area, could we come up with a projected location for the Charlotte?"

Riley's face lit up with excitement. "Sure we could!" he said enthusiastically.

After an hour of intense calculations and another hour of intense double checking their calculations, Ben and Riley had their projected location.

"If we did everything right," Riley said, "the Charlotte should have moved one hundred eighty nautical miles west and another one hundred eighty nautical miles south."

Ben thought for a minute. "One degree of latitude is equal to sixty nautical miles, so if they moved one hundred eighty nautical miles west and south their latitude and longitude should have each changed by three degrees…and that would put the Charlotte…"

"Near Point Hope, Alaska," Riley finished for him, looking at map on his laptop.

"Wait, wait, wait," Shippen said, looking confused. "The Charlotte is _in_ Alaska?"

"Yup," Riley said.

"But…how is that possible?" Shippen asked.

Riley opened his mouth to explain, but then decided against it. "It's really hard to explain…but trust me. It's possible." Shippen still looked confused, but didn't ask any more questions.

"So that's where you think the Charlotte is? Point Hope, Alaska?" Ian asked Ben.

"That's where I think she is," Ben replied with a smile.

"Then let's find out how soon we can get to Alaska," Ian said, his smile mirroring Ben's.

Six weeks later, their preparations were complete. Ben's job had been to make transportation arrangements. Shaw, Powell and Shippen had taken care of equipment rentals, including snow plows, shovels and metal detectors. Phil ordered the cold weather clothing and hiking gear they would need and Ian supplied the check that paid for it all. Riley spent the entire time fine tuning the calculations they had made to pin point exactly where the Charlotte should be.

When they arrived at the airport at an hour far too early for anyone's liking, no one could think of a single thing that had been neglected or over looked. The only question now was…

"What if the Charlotte isn't there?" Riley asked as they walked out to the small private plane that would be flying them all the way to Alaska. Several pairs of eyes darted nervously between Ben and Riley, as they waited for a response to the one thing they all had been thinking, but no one else dared say.

"Then we have to start from square one," Ben said much too cheerfully for a thought so taboo.

Riley shuddered at the thought. "Then I hope she's there. Alaska, here we come."

**A/N: **I don't think the first names of Ian's gang were ever given in NT, so I used the first names of the actors who played them (and in Phil's case, the actor's surname.)

I know that there are a few factual errors in this story; for example, the existence of rogue waves wasn't proven until a few years ago and definitely wasn't know about in the 1700s. Just remember that this is fan _fiction_ and don't sue me for my mistakes…I needed them to make my story work:-)

I'm considering writing a sequel to this story that takes place post-NT, so if you noticed some unanswered questions in the plot, that's why. If you have any cool ideas that could be worked into the story line, let me know! I'm always up for new ideas! And remember, writers can't get better without criticism, so write me a review if you have a few seconds to spare. Thanks!


End file.
